tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-61295197285785651452024-03-12T23:15:26.974-07:00There's No Gelato in the ShadeAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01848855788000487449noreply@blogger.comBlogger19125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6129519728578565145.post-82302040752839987692014-01-27T14:46:00.000-08:002014-01-27T14:46:33.822-08:00Finding Wrong.<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; text-align: left;">I have driven the distance between Boulder and Colorado Springs an inestimable number of times. It seems an endless trip that started when I drove myself to visit my brother, continued through the years of my own undergrad, and now I drive from here to there because Boulder is where That Boy lives</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-small; text-align: left;">.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">(Actually, let's call him M, because I've never been able to figure out at what age I'm supposed to start calling a boy a man. Or when I go from girl to woman. Those sound so serious. Any opinions on this topic would be much appreciated.)</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The distance is longer, but I usually opt to drive Highway 93 and Santa Fe, because I can breathe into open spaces instead of car exhaust. And the foothills fill the route with moments of unexpected beauty that appear to me, just for me, because I look for them.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">This morning, the light in the sky was a buttermilk sun. Clouds sighed onto the landscape. I turned off the highway onto a road I've never taken. I stopped my car and stepped out to watch a world that was covered in fog like opening your eyes underwater. A falcon landed on a pole above me. He ruffled his feathers. I blinked snowflakes off my eyelashes.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Joseph Chilton Pearce, an author of books on child development, says, "To live a creative life, we must lose our fear of being wrong."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">To me, creative and happy are intertwined. My head tells me it is wrong to be unemployed, focusing on my success in happiness and health. But maybe that's okay. Maybe wrong is something we need to strive for. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I want to be wrong </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">by detouring on my drives and in my life. I want to keep taking too long to get where I'm supposed to be. I want</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> to keep taking turns just because I've never taken them before. I want to be wrong by living my life slowly in a world that moves too fast. I think I move slower than most people. I breathe slower, I'm often late, and it took me too long to say goodbye this morning when M needed to go to work. I closed my eyes to imprint the feeling of his lips on mine.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj6JLtrCryEAMZK7jGylYiIgL59fepYryCCS_zAxu0cvhmzFTFq-LvbqdzdOxydOBpW-TyQOLWDIdoKWXAaLG-zDsUbK3GLyEOH_j0hh3_38AGQ_w17d1SqcToVeQL-T_5a0DNyNbDLfs/s1600/photo+1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><br /></a><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I'm trying to soak this entire world into my memories. From those memories, I want to create beauty in this life, a life that drives others to distraction. I want people to find wrong with me.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">My Wrong This Week:</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">1.22 Finally Back to Yoga//Someone Said I Look Like An Archer With My Mat.<br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj6JLtrCryEAMZK7jGylYiIgL59fepYryCCS_zAxu0cvhmzFTFq-LvbqdzdOxydOBpW-TyQOLWDIdoKWXAaLG-zDsUbK3GLyEOH_j0hh3_38AGQ_w17d1SqcToVeQL-T_5a0DNyNbDLfs/s1600/photo+1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj6JLtrCryEAMZK7jGylYiIgL59fepYryCCS_zAxu0cvhmzFTFq-LvbqdzdOxydOBpW-TyQOLWDIdoKWXAaLG-zDsUbK3GLyEOH_j0hh3_38AGQ_w17d1SqcToVeQL-T_5a0DNyNbDLfs/s1600/photo+1.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">1.23 Caught Up With Old Friends//My Cat Was Less Enthused Than I</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF5NEt4Y1riaBR3Y5WXMeYLGilphDnRNmCCqg_mgDkX-1fB9qNTBSleXAeXPg2pptVIVAe1xKCy7cSIEhcJecAmcqGjLDhpm1lgEMV0sV3pkkZ1b3EGp7t3NEMQ-K7y1dmwa7Lr48DpWQ/s1600/IMG_4803.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF5NEt4Y1riaBR3Y5WXMeYLGilphDnRNmCCqg_mgDkX-1fB9qNTBSleXAeXPg2pptVIVAe1xKCy7cSIEhcJecAmcqGjLDhpm1lgEMV0sV3pkkZ1b3EGp7t3NEMQ-K7y1dmwa7Lr48DpWQ/s1600/IMG_4803.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">1.24 Breckenridge with <a href="http://sweetbananie.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">SweetBananie</a>//Lucky For Another Mountain Getaway.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyqbci09HjQy7ECMcaqK82E5Ukn7hIqDjqMcZfAmhWiPyXZs1uUwGv3wSP3p1UjbgS9EzRJteocsfRgIrPf-iJjFIwilmsKyAtSuyAnGg1_Nby8EwWGO-PylKsta12GJTgp726yw2hBAQ/s1600/photo+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyqbci09HjQy7ECMcaqK82E5Ukn7hIqDjqMcZfAmhWiPyXZs1uUwGv3wSP3p1UjbgS9EzRJteocsfRgIrPf-iJjFIwilmsKyAtSuyAnGg1_Nby8EwWGO-PylKsta12GJTgp726yw2hBAQ/s1600/photo+2.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">1.25 Glühwein//We Never Got Out of Our PJs</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFX2l26smsn_biBaB1YfkXr7uwzTDF90HyhGrqeDoEGubxTYUvbfoTZh06aZLWAzEvWGsl6sOU1qtaCvd7ttC6Q7jtw0GH9zPoefcROohvRBLR7zfiEVMBk5mtIy0q6azfy16GdfCq4-4/s1600/IMG_4810.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFX2l26smsn_biBaB1YfkXr7uwzTDF90HyhGrqeDoEGubxTYUvbfoTZh06aZLWAzEvWGsl6sOU1qtaCvd7ttC6Q7jtw0GH9zPoefcROohvRBLR7zfiEVMBk5mtIy0q6azfy16GdfCq4-4/s1600/IMG_4810.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">1.26 Skied the new bowl on Peak 6//OMG That's M :)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHSqIa6Nr-uBwXLreJSp2Pmvvj_Hs088_dCvnm6FNuaqVDK7PUQYfrSa4vbV8UUq0y31c-nB8ierecfutVoNo_7qGmi-I5h6SiIJqdRXoUs7B5pyZfTd3cnikOBfXQu-WPqtE7MNwchiU/s1600/IMG_4836.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHSqIa6Nr-uBwXLreJSp2Pmvvj_Hs088_dCvnm6FNuaqVDK7PUQYfrSa4vbV8UUq0y31c-nB8ierecfutVoNo_7qGmi-I5h6SiIJqdRXoUs7B5pyZfTd3cnikOBfXQu-WPqtE7MNwchiU/s1600/IMG_4836.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">1.27 Keeping My Eyes Open//On Average, The Horizon is Only 3 Miles Away</td></tr>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01848855788000487449noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6129519728578565145.post-52295808039625354882014-01-21T21:43:00.000-08:002014-01-21T21:54:20.069-08:00The Start of Things<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">When I set my goals for this year, I split them into three sections (Financial, Physical, Emotional). The goals within each section followed the SMART[er] principle: Specific, Measurable, Applicable, Realistic, Timely [&evaluate&reevaluate]. Too many years on Student Council, I guess.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Most of this month has been devoted to my emotional goals. This year, I want to focus on my connections with people, because I sometimes close myself off. Another emotional goal is to spend time finding&doing things that make me happy, and to rediscover the feeling I had when I was younger that anything is possible.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Ideally, I'll work on updating in more manageable chunks, since two weeks at a time is kind of a lot for you dear readers, but alas, for now, here's how I've been working on my emotional health. My happiness health. :)</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">1.7 Discovered SkyGuide//Found a Way to Reach for the Stars Wherever I Am</span></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">1.8 Watched a TEDTalk by a Nine-Year-Old//Was Inspired to Focus on Happiness <i>as</i> Work</span></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">1.9 Date at The Cruise Room//Became Giggly&Giddy Mess Around Cute Boy</span></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">1.10 Extended the Date//Tried to Spot the Aurora Borealis From Way Above Denver</span></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">1.11 Girls' Weekend Cabin Getaway//Resetting with Quiet Air and Great Friends</span></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">1.12 Bonded with Horses!//New Goal: Horseback-Riding Lessons</span></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">1.13 Knocked Out with a Fever//Finished the Crossword for the First Time Ever</span></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">1.14 Still Sick//Finding Emotional Inspiration in Unexpected Places</span></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">1.15 Stayed in Bed to Work on Birthday Party Invitations//My Fever-Delerium Inspired Surprise Mini-Dinosaurs that Represent My Inner Child</span></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">1.16 Finishing Touches//Embracing My Silly</span></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">1.17 Sent Out My Dinosaur Army//Hope I Make the USPS Wonder&lol</span></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">1.18 Ski Weekend At Steamboat with Cute Boy//Felt Like a Fairy Wonderland</span></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">1.19 Ran Into My Incredible Friend Kate&Her Family//Realized I Know Amazing People</span></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">1.20 Came Home to This Guy//Cat Naps All Day</span></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">1.21 Dad's Birthday//This Picture Makes Me Wish it Were Summer</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">We're three weeks into the new year already; a realization that I find both invigorating and terrifying. Looking at this post, I realized that picking one picture to represent each day makes it look like I've been a busy&adventuring human being, rather than the bump-on-a-log like I've rather felt lately. So I suppose this blog is helping me with my other emotional goals this year: B</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">e kind [to myself and everyone else] & be grateful [for everything].</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Looking back on these three weeks in this format, 2014 <i>has</i> been an incredible year already. I found inspiration on how to learn&create happiness&love&wonder, I got to spend time with so many of my favorite people, I started&finished two creative projects, I was kind enough to myself to slow down&heal when I needed it, I created a back-up plan</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">(Ski Bum)</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> if I don't get into an amazing graduate program, and I spent a weekend away with a boy&realized how much I would like to keep spending time with him.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I'm amazed by all of these things. I'm grateful for all of these things.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I can't pretend that these last three weeks have been perfect. I've been struggling with insecurities and questions about what to do with my life//what I am doing with my life. </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">But with proof like ^^^this, I firmly believe I can create happiness with 1. Gratitude, 2. Respecting&Accepting that Happiness Can Coexist with Sadness, and 3. </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Sheer Determination.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Because I know y'all have been on the edge of your seats wondering about it, the title of this blog, "There's No Gelato in the Shade," is an exact quote from a hot day when I lived in Italy. A dear friend of mine was using gelato to persuade me that I had to leave the shade of the building where I was deliciously pressing my sweating forehead against the cool sandstone wall. The quote has since become more than that. First, it's motivation to leave my comfort zone to get those things I really want. But it also holds the reminder that sometimes the gentle kindness of the shade <i>is </i>the gelato. <span style="font-size: x-small;">(Whoah. Deep.)</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Regardless, I got my gelato that day, and I'm going to continue to get my gelato (and eat it too), for the rest of my life.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Who's with me?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">:)</span><br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01848855788000487449noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6129519728578565145.post-67225365886832818402014-01-06T22:36:00.002-08:002014-01-06T22:44:46.754-08:002014, Here We Go.<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Alright.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Now y'all have stuck with me while I slogged through 2013. I appreciate that.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">To recap in many less words, here are the 13 things I learned in 2013 (+1 more to honor the new year):</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<ol>
<li><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I can't work a job where I don't feel like I'm making a difference.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I actually like to drive long-distances.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I have the best friends.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I prefer being brunette.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I know when giving up isn't giving up; it's knowing my limits.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I learned how to say no. To myself and to other people.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I'm better than bulimia.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Yoga is one consistent place where I feel <i>still</i> for an hour.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I'm never going to be able to give up chocolate. And that is okay.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I need to be <i>away</i>/in the mountains to feel like I can think.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Little kids. I love them. I want them, but I am not ready for them.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I love running. I believe I can be a runner.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I never want the type of wealth that let's me forgot what hard work is.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I really want to live this life. Even when it gets hard.</span></li>
</ol>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">When I started this blog last May, I admitted to having no idea what it was about. </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I thought about making it a yoga blog, a running blog, a fashion blog, </span><strike style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">a cooking blog</strike><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> (only if you count refried beans), a nannying blog, a health blog, a dating blog, and a cat blog.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">So far, it's mostly a brain dump.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">This year I'd like it to be some semblance of something.</span></div>
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<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">So I thought about what drives me to do all of ^^^those bloggy things, and I realized all I really want is to do everything.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I know. It sounds like I'm trying to be the YOLO poster child, but it's really more of a FOMO thing. ;)</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">But seriously, I am afraid of missing out on what could be the <u style="font-weight: bold;">best</u> option, so I want to try everything, before I make up my mind.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">But that means I am letting a fear drive me, and that's a problem. Because I have worked hard to be fearless. My fear of heights? I did yoga for balance, so that I could trust I wouldn't fall off a ladder. My crippling arachnophobia from childhood? I tried to view spiders as neighbors who were just more efficient at walking than I am. Already this year I've already rescued two of them when they got stuck in my sink. Rescued. Spiders. #growingup.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">So this year, rather than feeling endless anxiety about how many different things I can do, I want to focus on what I am doing. I want to work to make each day memorable. If I don't do anything "memorable" that day, that's okay, but I want to at least make sure I'm doing something to grow as a person. And if I didn't do either of the first two options, I will express gratitude for what <i>did</i> happen that day.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">And I'm doing it with pictures. Clearly I write enough already. ;)</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1Xll_TDUacy8StivO2tEWCWmJ8JtEJMeE1L_sBqpnsUbli814NB9xjq9tzb8_VEUwGU3GEHo6EIqKUMS9HYU_tCkQNNvlJmN2SMvJpbj2pXGuGbZ_VbQ_8JY-rgQHIE2KEe2CkT7DyQE/s1600/IMG_4592.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><br /></a><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">So, here goes. This has been my 2014 so far.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">1.1 Masquerade Party//New Year. New Identity. Meow.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_XW-B9TeiTnK52nLr3YDU31WLGMHQFzxZIsthg3zgFAvWiTuT0bs3Qlp-7VPOirqJiH8skAuBJjcmZqLFOdqrPN4w82cgZeg_KBodYAeyKYp-W2xp8Yae-92CGFePZBc3q8PK41_r4MI/s1600/IMG_4578.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_XW-B9TeiTnK52nLr3YDU31WLGMHQFzxZIsthg3zgFAvWiTuT0bs3Qlp-7VPOirqJiH8skAuBJjcmZqLFOdqrPN4w82cgZeg_KBodYAeyKYp-W2xp8Yae-92CGFePZBc3q8PK41_r4MI/s1600/IMG_4578.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">1.2 Goal-Setting for 2014//Power of Positive Thinking</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1Xll_TDUacy8StivO2tEWCWmJ8JtEJMeE1L_sBqpnsUbli814NB9xjq9tzb8_VEUwGU3GEHo6EIqKUMS9HYU_tCkQNNvlJmN2SMvJpbj2pXGuGbZ_VbQ_8JY-rgQHIE2KEe2CkT7DyQE/s1600/IMG_4592.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1Xll_TDUacy8StivO2tEWCWmJ8JtEJMeE1L_sBqpnsUbli814NB9xjq9tzb8_VEUwGU3GEHo6EIqKUMS9HYU_tCkQNNvlJmN2SMvJpbj2pXGuGbZ_VbQ_8JY-rgQHIE2KEe2CkT7DyQE/s1600/IMG_4592.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">1.3 First Chair at Breckinridge//Got to Wait in the Operating Booth!<br />
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW10276-1oZxFC8hzFdNPESghqv7RTnyd4V0Mq-JvauBnZNyJcZmqj22VxmFJXFM6eZaDXnA1_crKzc1mEC7ubYiySu6z9FcFITDqekQJhcaG_CSOowI9JyN4O9CBQsWf1OCWdjv63OcE/s1600/photo+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW10276-1oZxFC8hzFdNPESghqv7RTnyd4V0Mq-JvauBnZNyJcZmqj22VxmFJXFM6eZaDXnA1_crKzc1mEC7ubYiySu6z9FcFITDqekQJhcaG_CSOowI9JyN4O9CBQsWf1OCWdjv63OcE/s1600/photo+2.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-small;">1.4Thank You Crafts//Wish I Knew Calligraphy</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXMye8j-Ksk2hrUtrIFSDS9Fc_oGfNFefdvifo3E_kfG7MRs2SJCyZOf8-HixDTxilNypwPc2jpoJt_CHwncbfEFDphw9NXcZuu7tntZGfvQWPrU9wZ_J7wzea8uSgVKZq2Td97oqgaoI/s1600/photo+1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXMye8j-Ksk2hrUtrIFSDS9Fc_oGfNFefdvifo3E_kfG7MRs2SJCyZOf8-HixDTxilNypwPc2jpoJt_CHwncbfEFDphw9NXcZuu7tntZGfvQWPrU9wZ_J7wzea8uSgVKZq2Td97oqgaoI/s1600/photo+1.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-small;">1.5 Wedding Planning with Kelly//Brunch&Shopping&Girlie Swooning</span><br />
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6qukWFcTi9QLd56967l9KKhBURyEvux0an_B4Dfh7oVUVsaHAPWRbG-ocUHKrKuViANtJym-BdIDMfuPevEYvjik_7oXv5mGBJGckBDVUp4undg_iOMXwTx5ffCl_-ViHKB411y4kwH4/s1600/photo+3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6qukWFcTi9QLd56967l9KKhBURyEvux0an_B4Dfh7oVUVsaHAPWRbG-ocUHKrKuViANtJym-BdIDMfuPevEYvjik_7oXv5mGBJGckBDVUp4undg_iOMXwTx5ffCl_-ViHKB411y4kwH4/s1600/photo+3.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-small;">1.6 Playing Interior Decorator//Made Myself a Reading Nook</span></td></tr>
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I'm pretty pleased with this first almost-week of the new year. I feel happier, and healthier, and more productive already, though this is mostly a result of my New Years resolution to put on real pants every day. You'd be surprised how this helps your sanity when you're "funemployed" and living in your parents' basement. :)</div>
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Did you guys make any goals this year? I'll tell you about more of mine next time.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01848855788000487449noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6129519728578565145.post-59525460670771366802014-01-05T00:13:00.000-08:002014-01-05T00:28:38.000-08:002013, Part 2.<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Last year was a big learning year for me, and I'm so grateful for the experiences. I left off in June, becoming a nanny and starting yoga teacher training. As I mentioned, I was a wee bit busy.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Mostly, I was go-go-going without breathing. Truthfully, I felt like if I stopped to breathe, I'd have to stop to think. And I didn't want to think about where my life was (or wasn't) going. I was (am still) at the ripe old age of 24, and was (still am) having ever-increasing anxiety about what the heck I was supposed to be doing with myself. Do you guys ever feel this way? Yeah, of course you do, because it's the basic question of humanity. Why are we here and why is being here so hard? ;)</span><br />
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<h4 style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">July</span></h4>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The last two weeks of July were a lesson in determination. I had double-booked myself for both teacher training and a three-week trip </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">with my "nanny family" </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">to Crested Butte, CO, and Sonoma, CA. So, this happened:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Teacher training ended Tuesday night at 10 pm. I slept until 2 am, woke up and raced the sunrise 250 miles to Crested Butte, watching Colorado wake up before the kids did at 7:00. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqYa3Kh6l1siuoSKDVLN6vqbetr-m5wXwwyX5EUqoPCl9N3s8lvcx7-SwNwdHrSOC0ht-rpgtcXwjf5qRbKLWLYX1hom_IvVoLjnVgShERTg3dSgITbVs9-rSrkBFb9XtZZoiqpHpBW2I/s1600/July1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqYa3Kh6l1siuoSKDVLN6vqbetr-m5wXwwyX5EUqoPCl9N3s8lvcx7-SwNwdHrSOC0ht-rpgtcXwjf5qRbKLWLYX1hom_IvVoLjnVgShERTg3dSgITbVs9-rSrkBFb9XtZZoiqpHpBW2I/s320/July1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhepvY9JZdXtU6kc1pi9f9OF9BQC8uDcJu3f6O4U8o_lLpVzMArPQma1QCbJwC3WwF8DOg1zzGoUWe2SVkRgxmr2ppbqFGS1vzaYUATFLO2BceNNPR2uQd9OPvd8Z9mGaT93IXShzwA4kY/s1600/July4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhepvY9JZdXtU6kc1pi9f9OF9BQC8uDcJu3f6O4U8o_lLpVzMArPQma1QCbJwC3WwF8DOg1zzGoUWe2SVkRgxmr2ppbqFGS1vzaYUATFLO2BceNNPR2uQd9OPvd8Z9mGaT93IXShzwA4kY/s320/July4.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyOjaVAI3bNLE3sRMBd40IHLGXhyphenhyphen27B7Pswf1LnDwJ05ss6f_VGmGz5W3E2f38yB_Qrfgdhxpqmm2NwiLItAAvL9xcXw-KftQvE9t5Sa-lS_Z-A4ROZmVhyMpNvQMaD8MjFuFrg07uQnU/s1600/July7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyOjaVAI3bNLE3sRMBd40IHLGXhyphenhyphen27B7Pswf1LnDwJ05ss6f_VGmGz5W3E2f38yB_Qrfgdhxpqmm2NwiLItAAvL9xcXw-KftQvE9t5Sa-lS_Z-A4ROZmVhyMpNvQMaD8MjFuFrg07uQnU/s320/July7.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Then we went hiking!</span></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJQ4pniei6Thu-gBJrk6MM2jf_zRihW1CUSNfSZIoyBh1YUC-Hlrcf0xyvbxrnZvZ7QQlw9HUxsF6FlEc88CKED-mq-_M8O7FWmnuwMiPxS7y7Xlxn3cmrNnLWijO1an4y08p82kX-eRg/s1600/July8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJQ4pniei6Thu-gBJrk6MM2jf_zRihW1CUSNfSZIoyBh1YUC-Hlrcf0xyvbxrnZvZ7QQlw9HUxsF6FlEc88CKED-mq-_M8O7FWmnuwMiPxS7y7Xlxn3cmrNnLWijO1an4y08p82kX-eRg/s320/July8.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-small;">Then I jumped in that waterfall you can sort of see behind J!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-small;">It was bone-numbing!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-small;">It was better than caffeine!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Friday night the kids went to bed at 10:00 pm, and I drove back up to Denver. I arrived at 3:00 am and woke up for teacher training Saturday from 8:30 am-4:30pm.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The next day, I went for a hike to "find myself." I'm not sure if I did, but I did find a hitchhiker. Dangerous? Maybe. But he led me to this hike on the Colorado Trail.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoXILQctyZD8VhWwAzPPyPNdiG4cgnDqLJ2eWXW7ljedcjL_XKEg3OqHFPElAxfTuZHQVV_q00Fn8rDZe3gBNfPas8VJz7Pn7JdfhCldisNUo-r0UjkLMLYeLwc_QzoWojre-Z7QOrGqA/s1600/11616277583_cb3a96a72e_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoXILQctyZD8VhWwAzPPyPNdiG4cgnDqLJ2eWXW7ljedcjL_XKEg3OqHFPElAxfTuZHQVV_q00Fn8rDZe3gBNfPas8VJz7Pn7JdfhCldisNUo-r0UjkLMLYeLwc_QzoWojre-Z7QOrGqA/s320/11616277583_cb3a96a72e_o.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-small;">So I say let's hear it for risky behavior!</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Two days later, I made the same midnight drive back down to CB.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZKIrUZTk3rQq8DQS12RXV7xw4LOODDXo-7dFsbFCO6i0Z8wUPL0vOHHgSR5XHZPCdDws8Nsc5gDf3BecVx5Sghzd51BXMsxNfSRp59h3MiNJZcmwKr7GuHDCUqFUoc_-eZhWeov25kBc/s1600/Butte.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZKIrUZTk3rQq8DQS12RXV7xw4LOODDXo-7dFsbFCO6i0Z8wUPL0vOHHgSR5XHZPCdDws8Nsc5gDf3BecVx5Sghzd51BXMsxNfSRp59h3MiNJZcmwKr7GuHDCUqFUoc_-eZhWeov25kBc/s320/Butte.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">This is the Butte.</span></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7yN20ND8v-Zjwmw-3-nuflATOd587W7t2jVVYlgqE8rW0elMTRMb64utcbA50HgOUPUeXIF-XiwQOxTnarm8r-RrLO5MrHeeCzPm2SxG3SCL1IipV7B1fM_CwM35Q850iGboYSALECvM/s1600/Walter.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7yN20ND8v-Zjwmw-3-nuflATOd587W7t2jVVYlgqE8rW0elMTRMb64utcbA50HgOUPUeXIF-XiwQOxTnarm8r-RrLO5MrHeeCzPm2SxG3SCL1IipV7B1fM_CwM35Q850iGboYSALECvM/s320/Walter.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">This is the cat. He has a snaggletooth & is weird.</span></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">This is K. Also weird. Also snaggletooth.</span></span></td></tr>
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<h4 style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">August</span></h4>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">That Saturday, we took the family's private jet to Sonoma Valley. Yes. I said it. Private jet. I rode in it. I flew co-pilot. It was AWESOME.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFNmGQLTet1hnFn0SjRGRp-O6SlLnbA2-OlRwrOr2pRqEPvlBghRtA0SHVykt8vKTv5ffwd1ps3jTNPC6AK4Nnt62lAHffI61mCSiwLIZjBOjBw-AZ2OWOESUm8soE53uajXba7XrqQmc/s1600/Plabe.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFNmGQLTet1hnFn0SjRGRp-O6SlLnbA2-OlRwrOr2pRqEPvlBghRtA0SHVykt8vKTv5ffwd1ps3jTNPC6AK4Nnt62lAHffI61mCSiwLIZjBOjBw-AZ2OWOESUm8soE53uajXba7XrqQmc/s320/Plabe.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTHaFFavxH7wBbZoylS_vRI6T2VXEPSVPfqzOqt-ETtJKolhbssTnx56D6ZY75K6KLXkRxm-e-bNEsbffCWzyP0dJB0mP1wRkhGT1NyROy5oQw5DEwgIo_Rh5Vw7qavs2K3otyFgl4Qfw/s1600/Me.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTHaFFavxH7wBbZoylS_vRI6T2VXEPSVPfqzOqt-ETtJKolhbssTnx56D6ZY75K6KLXkRxm-e-bNEsbffCWzyP0dJB0mP1wRkhGT1NyROy5oQw5DEwgIo_Rh5Vw7qavs2K3otyFgl4Qfw/s320/Me.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Trying to take covert-ops photos. Trying to act coo</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">l.</span></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="text-align: left;">That week in Cali we had an entire 35-acre vineyard property all to ourselves. The kids and I hung out in the pool, went down the 100-foot rock water slide that led to our lake, played tennis, jumped on the trampoline, jumped on the water trampoline, and jousted on paddle boards. <span style="font-size: xx-small;">I lost my glasses in the lake and was blind for 24 hours. Whoops! </span>The adults cooked every night in the full outdoor kitchen and drank a lot of wine. </span><span style="text-align: left;">It was the most wonderful, extravagant vacation ever. Well, except I was technically "at work." </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Technicalities.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">We flew back to CB the following Saturday, and I hopped in my car and drove 325 miles to Santa Fe, New Mexico, to meet my <i>real</i> family for the Indian Arts festival. B</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">ecause I apparently </span><i style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">didn't </i><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">drive </span><b style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">enough</b><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> the two weeks before. It was worth it.</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> Everything was gorgeous. The </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">craftsmanship was unbelievable.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Sunday night I drove back to Denver to be at work Monday at 6:30 am.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">In those three weeks, I logged 1500 miles on my 1998 Ford Explorer.</span></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHXKP6VwRbHt0XalBssUSG91TUw6WpMyDauI0BhtNqFRdayrbpMkkyqvjYyN-0BRy4w42YBI_fpfBcyRLKETEptXuV7l4daw17UOoAC4QcbQbltBvfEirizYFu_gdUAV8TZSLbBpZVQxQ/s1600/Car5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHXKP6VwRbHt0XalBssUSG91TUw6WpMyDauI0BhtNqFRdayrbpMkkyqvjYyN-0BRy4w42YBI_fpfBcyRLKETEptXuV7l4daw17UOoAC4QcbQbltBvfEirizYFu_gdUAV8TZSLbBpZVQxQ/s320/Car5.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">I got pretty good at taking pictures out of my car window at 80 mph.</span></span></td></tr>
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<h4 style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></h4>
<h4 style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">September</span></h4>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The only nannying I had to do was to get the kids ready for school, so I became the mom's full-time personal assistant. I also started the "extensions" program for yoga teacher training.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">And I s</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">till had a second job. And I was s</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">till not sleeping. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">We moved my brother from Alamosa to Basalt. I started training for a marathon. Guess when I did my training? At night.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL8KO-801lLH1tw6cR0lv3Rk3NKgnapD9IVHPxyIbBfVoSAqKHH42drD-MW1_N8dH8LDDRk_WLcBiAJHimUwGOWNmKhfYf964dvkQqmwjbjqzfIV3KIIAWkKq7Ay8Uo_mR5mCAXcCujAw/s1600/11588499866_bcfd9ba1b0_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL8KO-801lLH1tw6cR0lv3Rk3NKgnapD9IVHPxyIbBfVoSAqKHH42drD-MW1_N8dH8LDDRk_WLcBiAJHimUwGOWNmKhfYf964dvkQqmwjbjqzfIV3KIIAWkKq7Ay8Uo_mR5mCAXcCujAw/s320/11588499866_bcfd9ba1b0_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Well, other than this run. Clearly daytime.</td></tr>
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<h4 style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></h4>
<h4 style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">October</span></h4>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Teacher-training ended. I quit my part-time second job. There was light at the end of my worn out tunnel.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU5r1aJm1ivuO07yU7gixOxzSOn0JiUP4BwAFNAc-gO-BzbOaiAlDfaCCqB6a_X3SsqUidpar24PCpYhie7jsLwMjygNjRCmT3BFropo8I0o7QZ4Oe1s5ZXgTss-bs0OK662ZJ6xsLZ04/s1600/11588009754_357af44683_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU5r1aJm1ivuO07yU7gixOxzSOn0JiUP4BwAFNAc-gO-BzbOaiAlDfaCCqB6a_X3SsqUidpar24PCpYhie7jsLwMjygNjRCmT3BFropo8I0o7QZ4Oe1s5ZXgTss-bs0OK662ZJ6xsLZ04/s320/11588009754_357af44683_o.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I dyed my hair back! I was ready to feel like <strike>an asian teddy bear</strike> myself again.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiILd4l5L23P0Ty4a7MYNzfniSvMiUyXG1oeyrv5wuOGRZdUA34f7COBEtYyQKMGlaNtPSvP5qWcp92S9qbFSQ4PT4CYtFpkjBYmqGtWRn62xC6lI6FEkVfHTQFLfAxookWBBZ0zCBZ5n8/s1600/11587873813_b99c74a8aa_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiILd4l5L23P0Ty4a7MYNzfniSvMiUyXG1oeyrv5wuOGRZdUA34f7COBEtYyQKMGlaNtPSvP5qWcp92S9qbFSQ4PT4CYtFpkjBYmqGtWRn62xC6lI6FEkVfHTQFLfAxookWBBZ0zCBZ5n8/s320/11587873813_b99c74a8aa_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I ran a 15K with mah best gal, Annie.</td></tr>
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<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I went on a hike to "find myself" some more. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLZaHHqiWrxUoBe7NwknTyoA6NgllnseYAoQqBIOBoq6V_c3xNJTGv-LC4C93C3pLVcP2hXBjdLUunTpTG1VEVv_XMMrCVs8TK5IFL9Meb3DdwrwLpiXKQ80pMUUaSxeBR7TuvDyMH3ro/s1600/11588176996_2e8a77009b_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="204" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLZaHHqiWrxUoBe7NwknTyoA6NgllnseYAoQqBIOBoq6V_c3xNJTGv-LC4C93C3pLVcP2hXBjdLUunTpTG1VEVv_XMMrCVs8TK5IFL9Meb3DdwrwLpiXKQ80pMUUaSxeBR7TuvDyMH3ro/s320/11588176996_2e8a77009b_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">And when I got back from that hike, I </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">quit my full-time job.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Wait. What, really? Again?</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Yes. Really.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">But they had a private jet! And vacations in California! They bought you a season pass to Crested Butte! You were going to Switzerland with them next summer! The kids were so cute!</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Yes. I know. I know all of those things.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">But I was worn down to the bone. I couldn't see straight. My diet consisted entirely of chocolate, caffeine and protein bars. My stress hormones were so out of control, I had gained 20 pounds, even though my average daily caloric intake after running and yoga was only 1200 net calories. My body was apparently preparing for itself for a slow, painful death.</span></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Beyond how I was feeling, my mom had suggested she could use some help around the house</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">, as </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">my dad's health was in rapid decline. Ultimately,</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I had started nannying to make a difference in someone's life, so w</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">hen faced with the choice of helping a family I had </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">adopted and helping my own family, I went with blood. It runs thicker than money.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<h4 style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">November</span></h4>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I moved back into my old bedroom in the basement of my parent's house. I redecorated.</span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZbNG9hZr7tTpjzfvVXW4blvEKWmGMEd4iZZmKfvDki6N3UUkc1hyphenhyphen0N_xArv_jSRRPklT6F-DfHmlbLV-2i-7-saCcM-O7o-i5hLK6dr5a5KH_PbSTDSL2DoKC148c8Ng_cT6-WIPuXF4/s1600/11579695023_0d09649e2d_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZbNG9hZr7tTpjzfvVXW4blvEKWmGMEd4iZZmKfvDki6N3UUkc1hyphenhyphen0N_xArv_jSRRPklT6F-DfHmlbLV-2i-7-saCcM-O7o-i5hLK6dr5a5KH_PbSTDSL2DoKC148c8Ng_cT6-WIPuXF4/s320/11579695023_0d09649e2d_o.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">From this (age 13) purple...</td></tr>
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<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbjgl6ZtJLLUQptponuUQnYbCgkCd4sFkyYAQ7h76K7U8Zk811OlRgD0MB7wXpAXt3HNveiPC9Q6UHQGl6Cl1A7AXCegp6BE2BksFlUy9mlWZZEjdphOIGt99SI55MSaSMtdsKV6hYcN0/s1600/11586546383_934543103e_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbjgl6ZtJLLUQptponuUQnYbCgkCd4sFkyYAQ7h76K7U8Zk811OlRgD0MB7wXpAXt3HNveiPC9Q6UHQGl6Cl1A7AXCegp6BE2BksFlUy9mlWZZEjdphOIGt99SI55MSaSMtdsKV6hYcN0/s320/11586546383_934543103e_o.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...To this.<br />
I did not redecorate the cat.<br />
He stayed just as cute.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Then I took another swing at the trust-fund life and jetted off to visit Andy who had moved to Austin, TX. It was such a fun trip. We went to some really neat bars with some really amazing people. And we spent twelve hours in a book store browsing potential reads, because Andy and I are basically the same person.</span><br />
<div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjiEUFhyphenhyphen2kRLD4bw8t_ozCaAqod6ZLGQ4kk2a8cBQXZcbz09hij0GzGAQqrbvl8Mav2NJrIosoKbr48Oew7MhHX7XuAbKJDasyjK0LGvPlfuibYmc_xkvMPrv1SOpKmUK53TF_84Ftlv8/s1600/11586924074_c578e6b882_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjiEUFhyphenhyphen2kRLD4bw8t_ozCaAqod6ZLGQ4kk2a8cBQXZcbz09hij0GzGAQqrbvl8Mav2NJrIosoKbr48Oew7MhHX7XuAbKJDasyjK0LGvPlfuibYmc_xkvMPrv1SOpKmUK53TF_84Ftlv8/s320/11586924074_c578e6b882_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My socks matched the decor/Andy's shirt.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Also in November, I met a boy...</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Oh my gosh. Did you really just put that in your blog? Like, for all the cyberspaces to see?</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Yes. Yes, I did. I am also having a conversation with myself in blog form, for the second time this evening. So I'm not sure which is worse.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I admitted to meeting a cute boy I might like because, <a href="http://gelatointheshade.blogspot.com/2013/05/hello-you.html" target="_blank">if you recall,</a> one of my goals in this blog was being honest. And if I'm being honest, I am trying to accept that having a crush means potentially opening myself up to hurt again. Like 2012-sized hurt. Like my-relationship-falling-apart-25-days-before-my-wedding hurt.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Wait. I didn't tell you that story yet? Hm. Well. It'll come later.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">For now, just know that I have a crush on a boy, and I am fuh-reaking out about it.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">In a good way. :)</span></div>
<h4 style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">December</span></h4>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I started submitting applications to graduate school. I'm going for it. I believe it's going to happen. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">My OG best friend Kelly asked me to be the Maid of Honor in her wedding. (awwwwww!)</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I went snowboarding.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgacow4sf3V7xEO06NjedfUtdeXgCF3rM2AFEsmQRRkxP_Zt8R1-fYRIqZGJn4Iwos7xwj45AHxi6Oq5y_hCAyRNeNV84LRVzdwJ8Js_QhbNTvYUCsH4GNahX89diexu_cP9R3YzSsrgUc/s1600/11581074756_25a7d22cf8_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgacow4sf3V7xEO06NjedfUtdeXgCF3rM2AFEsmQRRkxP_Zt8R1-fYRIqZGJn4Iwos7xwj45AHxi6Oq5y_hCAyRNeNV84LRVzdwJ8Js_QhbNTvYUCsH4GNahX89diexu_cP9R3YzSsrgUc/s320/11581074756_25a7d22cf8_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Riding up the T-Bar on a snowboard makes me a giggling mess with burning quads.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">And I tried to settle down. I did a <b>lot</b> of moving in 2013.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">As the year ended, I started thinking about my goals for the upcoming year.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">By the time I rang in 2014 with more of my best lady friends, I was ready to start working on them.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2HKpnAz4G_hMLn-s4qjCzfwNR3pfS9IBbCcG7aXb3EO1qVNB-iTr5I08TdZi4ApucqrI5IDgtr8zeiUp0f7oUaVBAXorQoJWna8PalwwfmQdlxuZKaxqNdAJhdypUd_-0FdMuqHatlPI/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2HKpnAz4G_hMLn-s4qjCzfwNR3pfS9IBbCcG7aXb3EO1qVNB-iTr5I08TdZi4ApucqrI5IDgtr8zeiUp0f7oUaVBAXorQoJWna8PalwwfmQdlxuZKaxqNdAJhdypUd_-0FdMuqHatlPI/s320/photo.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">And here I am, blogging away, which is one of my goals.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Next post, I'll tell you about what else I plan to accomplish this year.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">It's going to be a good year. I can feel it.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">It already is.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">:)</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01848855788000487449noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6129519728578565145.post-83013002046417226472014-01-01T21:10:00.000-08:002014-01-01T21:15:49.730-08:002013, Part 1.<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The beauty of the new year is that we all start it together.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">We all start with a fresh hope of becoming our truer, shinier, more <strike>beautiful</strike> human selves.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">And if you are lucky enough to have friends like mine, we celebrate those hopes knowing that, if next December rolls around and we didn't quite hit our marks, we'll still love each other anyway.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">The beauty of a new year is that we take time to reflect on the past. For me, </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">2013 was a great year. Yes, I had some dark moments, but overall, I became more conscious of </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">myself and who I am and who I am trying to be. I learned so much about my strengths, my weaknesses, and in a big way, my limits. Those insights inspired actions that looked crazy but that moved me slowly closer to where I want to be.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">And where I want to be is happy. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Here's what my first half of 2013 looked like. (Yes, I 'll have to do this obligatory summing-up-of-the-old-year in two posts//yes I should have done it in December but, meh). I promise I'll get around to the other obligatory goals-for-the-new-year by the end of the week (I'll give you a hint, blogging more is one of them).</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">January</span></h4>
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<span style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I rang in 2013 with a midnight yoga class. It was stellar, but sort of started a sleep-deprivation trend that I kept up for <strike>most of</strike> the entire year.</span></span></div>
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<span style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Later that month, I celebrated my 24th birthday with my best girls that I've known for basically forever.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-small;">duck face!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">We closed out a bar, waited way too long for a taxi (outside, in January, in Colorado, in dresses, without tights). And then "amused"our taxi driver with our fifteen-minute rendition of a Red Robin commercial.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Red Robin...YUMMMM.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-small;">It ended in hilarity in my apartment.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-small;">I made pancakes for everyone the next morning.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">February</span></h4>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I don't remember much of February, because this was the month that I actively considered suicide (remember those dark moments I mentioned above?). Thankfully, my friend Andy (shout out!) talked me off the proverbial ledge with 49% empathetic understanding and 49% blunt honesty. The other 2% was my own concern for the emotional health of whoever discovered my body.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Plus, let'sbehonesthere, I didn't really want to miss out on the rest of my life. I've got a long bucket list, and I haven't gotten to nearly enough of it. It seems bizarre now to think of myself as that so sad girl. But! The only way to go from there was up...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">March</span></h4>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-small;">I went blonde! Hollahatyergurl!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Since I didn't want to live my life the way it was going, I decided to reinvent myself, starting with my hair. I highly recommend this as therapy. I felt like an elf, elves are awesome, and I didn't recognize myself when I looked in the mirror That was a good thing.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I also hung out with my cat.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Like, a lot.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-small;">#inappropriate!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">April</span></h4>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I quit my job. In the middle of a recession. This was the first of the crazy decisions. And it was the best decision I've made in my life thus far. I was burnt out, and I didn't feel like I was making a difference in anyone else's life.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I want to make a difference. It's my biggest goal in life.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-small;">Last day with some of the amazing ragamuffin Urban crowd.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I<span style="font-size: x-small;"> celebrated that evening with ferrets. (What?)</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I went to a Spring Rockies game with my dad. This may seem inconsequential, but I'm really trying to bond with him to make up for a decade or so where we hated each other a little bit (#puberty).</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-small;">Aw. That's where I get my cheeks.</span></div>
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And I started the Whole30 Paleo cleanse. 30 days of eating nothing except nuts, fruits, seeds, vegetables, and meat. No sugar (anywhere; like, not even ketchup), no alcohol, no grains, no starches, no dairy.</div>
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But, I was doing it for the wrong reasons. I've always struggled with body image and my relationship with <strike>chocolate</strike> food. I wanted to lose weight and thought (ignorantly), that cutting everything out was the best way to do so. But, actually, all it did was ensure that I relapsed into bulimia. I couldn't keep up the elimination diet, and so I purged myself of the restricted foods I did eat. I love the idea behind Whole30, but for most people, it's not a sustainable lifestyle, and (I would argue), simply perpetuates disordered eating.</div>
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What I should have been focusing on is this:</div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-small;">Chyeah. Say it again!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">May</span></h4>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">You guys know about May. That's when I started this blog, after all! I went to Europe with my brother, and we had a grand time. You can read all about it, <a href="http://gelatointheshade.blogspot.com/2013/05/amsterdam-canal-wanderin.html" target="_blank">here,</a> <a href="http://gelatointheshade.blogspot.com/2013/05/gent-postage-stamp-sized-postcard.html" target="_blank">here,</a> or <a href="http://gelatointheshade.blogspot.com/2013/06/paris-in-one-fell-swoop.html" target="_blank">here.</a> (There's more posts, but writing "here" six times seemed excessive, so you'll have to find them yourselves).</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I also drove around Colorado on my funemployment, visiting my best friends.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-small;">This is Andy, he saved my life.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-small;">Cinco-de-mustache, obvi.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">And I went to Vegas with mah girls.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHAEYT8duAv-WStKSYOnM61T9TQHMurGJumLmYTytzOJgvzJGrZX3iljCzFlfGPiTqocM069xMI9w66cV9bdVnTrezNVPY4H3ft-cHiE-r-zK0n2cZmE9bXtnUs9ziRABB1uitrZ1bYuY/s1600/May7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHAEYT8duAv-WStKSYOnM61T9TQHMurGJumLmYTytzOJgvzJGrZX3iljCzFlfGPiTqocM069xMI9w66cV9bdVnTrezNVPY4H3ft-cHiE-r-zK0n2cZmE9bXtnUs9ziRABB1uitrZ1bYuY/s320/May7.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-small;">The guy on the left was in a group of men from London that let us share their table service.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-small;">We drank rounds of Dom Perignon.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-small;">It was a $15,000 bar tab. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-small;">Thanks!</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibBRI67UJuziyErzS2F7QlbflHB9DK1MDAofinRSKbKIDv2J1wisiSVbSa0N6s4zDu51AfK0v3Z3D4ac3QqzYPFpmNiKCwD4srho_j7iHUQJZZQLlGMIz1gm0CfxxNy9mm3kQO81SIUEY/s1600/May3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibBRI67UJuziyErzS2F7QlbflHB9DK1MDAofinRSKbKIDv2J1wisiSVbSa0N6s4zDu51AfK0v3Z3D4ac3QqzYPFpmNiKCwD4srho_j7iHUQJZZQLlGMIz1gm0CfxxNy9mm3kQO81SIUEY/s320/May3.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-small;">It was amazing.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWO8ZZ0TAYxvy04rbKo0CqeHO1p_lXn5RMW8gxJyWi5cYTHltdHDv6Uwv4Qq0Vpy9j4lDaLMQ2Goz1aBm7GoR0oWLcP2ihsC_gx0WdQjjJozvzjLcoBEwiCpdorxpD2cbK1s9JRLrNO6g/s1600/May5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWO8ZZ0TAYxvy04rbKo0CqeHO1p_lXn5RMW8gxJyWi5cYTHltdHDv6Uwv4Qq0Vpy9j4lDaLMQ2Goz1aBm7GoR0oWLcP2ihsC_gx0WdQjjJozvzjLcoBEwiCpdorxpD2cbK1s9JRLrNO6g/s320/May5.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-small;">Memories are a little blurry, but we were clearly having a great time.</span></div>
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<h4 style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">June</span></h4>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">After a month of living the life of a faux-trust-fund child and traveling to Europe, Las Vegas, and most of Colorado, I decided to start paying taxes again. So I started nannying.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1n9RpAcxzzHnPC_oEvyvSNrsrTjsUN8NhZ1pRlxX-buF6CiPFeblcDrMNRcuxgUg4AkxXL7AOifc1QMbhmfrpTQEoDFzOjBhpJGa3bsF13-bpA2vEIrtv-1cCy67HeXhL8xUYl4qmxEk/s1600/June1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1n9RpAcxzzHnPC_oEvyvSNrsrTjsUN8NhZ1pRlxX-buF6CiPFeblcDrMNRcuxgUg4AkxXL7AOifc1QMbhmfrpTQEoDFzOjBhpJGa3bsF13-bpA2vEIrtv-1cCy67HeXhL8xUYl4qmxEk/s320/June1.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-small;">For these crazies.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I also started yoga teacher training. Because when you're a twenty-something who quits a socially acceptable, successful career and yoga is the only reason you put on pants for most of the month of May, it seems like a great idea. And it was.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">But it was a busy June, July, &August. Weekly, yoga TT was nine hours of training, five hours of practice, and I had three hours of cleaning the studio (plus about 10 hours/week of showering). This was fit around my 40 hours of nannying, my second 15-hour/week retail job, and my time with my friends (and my cat). I was on FIRE. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The only thing I wasn't doing was sleeping. And by August, I crashed. Hard. Which, incidentally, is what led me to be writing this post from my old bedroom in my parents' basement. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">But, that's getting ahead of myself. July-December are coming atchya. Promise.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">For now, Happy New Year, y'all.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">:)</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01848855788000487449noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6129519728578565145.post-56769370435816650222013-07-10T15:37:00.002-07:002013-07-10T15:37:47.271-07:00For Me, Yoga
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">For me, yoga is my moving
meditation. It is a dance. It is the moment in every class when I smile from a
room of people moving together in unison from posture to posture. In this
dance, we embrace the beauty of our differences and imperfections. Through
yoga, I understand the energy of a group of people and how that can lift up,
up, up.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Yoga is knowing that I
cannot make it through an <i>om</i> without
my happiness breaking through into a smile. And yoga is that smile expanding to
a laugh, because sometimes a smile isn’t big enough for <i>my</i> type of happy. And yoga is letting myself laugh during that <i>om</i>, because I think that maybe somewhere
in that first sound of the universe, it included the sound of someone smiling.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">A great yoga class gives
me a happy that makes me skip home, and a great yoga teacher is one who
inspires me, and who inspires me to teach.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Practicing yoga is a
greater connection to a positive community. The desire to smile at everyone,
and have them smile back, and then I smile. Again. In return. And so do they,
and we walk away having seen a beautiful part of each other’s soul and feeling
closer to <i>something</i> for it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Yoga is the readjustment
at the grocery store or sitting down to dinner where I roll my shoulder blades
down my back and <i>exhale,</i> and pull my
pelvic girdle in a little closer to my spine. And when I pass my reflection in
a window, I think (no matter how much chocolate I’ve eaten that day), “This is
how my body—my strong, resilient, imperfect/perfect human body—is supposed to
look.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Yoga is (I’m going to say
it, because we’re all adults here) great sex. Because, for once, it makes sense
how body and breath are connected and how beautiful it is when two people dance
in intimacy together with <i>one breath</i>,
<i>one movement</i>. Whether they even
realize they are doing it or not.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Yoga is having the breath
to <i>hold</i> through the Eisenhower
Tunnel, but the knowledge to <i>release</i>
and let it go in moments of my life where things seem too big to overcome.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">My yoga mat is the place
that I go to get out of my own head. I lay or stand or sit, with my back on
this earth, or the soles of my feet pressing downwards to ground me, or my
palms facing up to receive. And for sixty minutes or ninety or a hundred-and-twenty
I think of nothing except, <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">I am here.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Here.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Here I am.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<!--EndFragment-->Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01848855788000487449noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6129519728578565145.post-37226726826071587512013-06-30T22:12:00.000-07:002013-06-30T22:12:07.438-07:00Speak to us of BeautyI've been opening Kahlil Gibran's _The Prophet_ at random with the intention that whatever passage I open it to will answer a question my heart is seeking. My own version of tarot maybe.<br />
<br />
Here is where the book fell tonight.<br />
<br />
.<br />
<br />
And a poet said, Speak to us of Beauty.<br />
And he answered:<br />
Where shall you seek beauty, and how shall you find her unless she herself be your way and your guide?<br />
And how shall you speak of her except she be the weaver of your speech?<br />
<br />
The aggrieved and the injured say, 'Beauty is kind and gentle.<br />
Like a young mother half-shy of her own glory she walks among us.'<br />
And the passionate say, 'Nay, beauty is a thing of might and dread.<br />
Like the tempest she shakes the earth beneath us and the sky above us.'<br />
<br />
The tired and weary say, 'Beauty is of soft whisperings. She speaks in our spirit.<br />
Her voice yields to our silences like a faint light that quivers in fear of the shadow.'<br />
But the restless say, 'We have heard her shouting among the mountains,<br />
And with her cries came the sound of hoofs, and the beating of wings and the roaring of lions.'<br />
<br />
At night the watchmen of the city say, 'Beauty shall rise with the dawn from the east.'<br />
And at noontide the toilers and the wayfarers say, 'We have seen her leaning over the earth from the windows of the sunset.'<br />
<br />
In winter say the snow-bound, 'She shall come with the spring leaping upon the hills.'<br />
And in the summer heat the reapers say, 'We have seen her dancing with the autumn leaves, and we saw a drift of snow in her hair.'<br />
All these things have you said of beauty,<br />
Yet in truth you spoke not of her but of needs unsatisfied,<br />
And beauty is not a need but an ecstasy.<br />
It is not a mouth thirsting nor an empty hand stretched forth,<br />
But rather a heart inflamed and a soul enchanted.<br />
It is not the image you would see nor the song you would hear,<br />
But rather an image you see though you close your eyes and a song you hear though you shut your ears.<br />
It is not the sap within the furrowed bark, nor a wing attached to a claw,<br />
But rather a garden for ever in bloom and a flock of angels for ever in flight.<br />
<br />
People of Orphalese, beauty is life when life unveils her holy face.<br />
But you are life and you are the veil.<br />
Beauty is eternity gazing at itself in a mirror.<br />
But you are eternity and you are the mirror.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01848855788000487449noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6129519728578565145.post-58354657559505085982013-06-30T21:57:00.001-07:002013-06-30T21:57:12.795-07:00Home&WonderingHaving a travel blog was fun, and I'm lucky to have had those experiences, but there is something to say about home.<br />
It has been a long few weeks here with me, and I realize I'm doing a terrible job of maintaining this blog, but mostly I am happy, and that's an important thing for me.<br />
<br />
Tonight I just want to ruminate on love a bit more, because honestly... it's on my mind a lot.<br />
<br />
I am trying to stay positive, honestly. And I am happy, really. Every day I am happy for at least a minute and usually more. It is not hard to keep smiling and to put a smile on my face--a real one where my eyes squint and wrinkles appear.<br />
<br />
But I do have to acknowledge how much time I spend thinking about love. And whether or not I was ever really in it. And whether or not I'll find it again.<br />
<br />
I want to be in love again. Or for the first time maybe. I do. but I also question if I know how to give myself to a person. I wonder if companionship is really the end-all-be-all. Is that all that I'm looking for? And what is it about the idea of being "in love"that offers me more than I feel like my friendships can? Or what is it that I am missing from myself that I feel like I need to seek from someone else? Is it sex? Is it physical&mental intimacy?<br />
<br />
I miss holding hands.<br />
And I miss kissing.<br />
And I miss being able to lean over in the store and put my head on someone's shoulder if I'm getting sleepy or just want to feel that connection of my warm body to theirs. And then they would put their hand on the back of my neck<br />
and I would feel safe.<br />
I miss waking up next to somebody, and I miss falling asleep with my feet tangled between their shins.<br />
And I miss smiling at someone and having them now exactly what that smile means.<br />
I miss talking on the phone<br />
and I miss saying I love you when I meant it at least sometimes. When the fullness of those words came from the fullness inside my soul.<br />
<br />
But, again, do all those things add up to love?<br />
And, if they do, do they add up to a love that is greater than the feeling I have of being able to live for myself? And learning to love myself?<br />
Of being able to enjoy my rituals of drinking tea<br />
or journaling<br />
or writing poetry<br />
or going to yoga<br />
or sleeping in<br />
and not having to worry about the time those things take and how the cut into my time with someone else.<br />
I like being alone<br />
and being able to decorate my room and my space without concerning myself with the tastes of someone else and whether they appreciate nudes as much as I do.<br />
I like being able to eat refried beans cold straight out of the can<br />
and not do laundry for weeks<br />
and not shave my legs or shower<br />
if I don't want to.<br />
I like being able to enjoy a bar of chocolate or a chocolate cake and not worry about being judged or where those calories are going to sit when I am undressed&naked, sweaty and rolling my hips in intimacy&ecstasy.<br />
<br />
I like so many things about being alone,<br />
but I wonder if those things add up to outweigh the weight of being in love.<br />
What is it to be in love?Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01848855788000487449noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6129519728578565145.post-16087071031258205322013-06-04T22:13:00.001-07:002013-06-05T13:03:38.513-07:00Paris, In One Fell Swoop.<div>
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Paris casts a spell on anyone with an artistic heart, I think. To me, it's perfect. I idealize it. It was my third trip and I want more.</span></div>
<div>
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<div>
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Maybe part of it is that the city caught me up in its endless neighborhoods and histories and museums, and kept me spinning so that after four days, I was left with only vague memories and an impression of falling in love with the places my footsteps fell. I'm happy that I take a lot of pictures, because without them, I find myself questioning if I was really there at all. </span></div>
<div>
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<div>
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">It was raining until our last day, but even that helped it feel more like <i>Paris, </i>the fabled city of lights and dreams. Ian and I are lucky that we kind of grew up outside so we didn't mind the weather, and I'm lucky that I somehow associate umbrellas with being cultured and romantic. I love that when you walk into any shop or restaurant in Paris, it's polite and expected to leave your umbrella in a stand by the door. And I love that the French pace of life is such that, when the clouds break, even Parisians with umbrellas simply stop under the closest doorway or awning and simply wait out the storm. In France, the moment you arrive is exactly when you should have gotten there.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">This trip we focused on museums and macaroons mostly, and spent several hours one morning wandering the Père Lachaise Cemetary to see the graves of Oscar Wilde, Gertrude Stein, Edith Piaf, and Jim Morrison. We staged mini-memorial services: we played Piaf's 'La Vie en Rose' and The Doors 'Hello, I Love You,' by their respective graves; we read Stein's 'Sacred Emily' next to where she is buried with her lover; and we stood next to Oscar Wilde's granite tomb and recited as many of his cynical quotes as we could think of.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">We went to the Museé de l'Orangerie and Museé Marmottan and saw countless Impressionist masterpieces by Monet, Manet, Degas, Renoir, and Picasso, and I fell in love with the work of Marie Laurencin, a woman I can't believe I haven't heard of before.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">(I wish our museums looked like this)</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">(I know. I'm sure you all would rather see a picture of an entire Monet, but instead just marvel at his brush-strokes and layers)</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">We avoided the metro as much as we could and wandered through miles&miles of cobblestones instead. That meant we got the see the vineyard that grows on the hill behind the Sacré Cœur, and we somehow stumbled upon the crêperie I ate at four years ago with my ex-fiancé.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">In Bastille, we almost got swept up in a celebration of the Paris rugby team (complete with riot police), and Ian found a shop that had four bottles of limited-supply Belgium-monk-brewed beer (he bought them all for 13,90€ each). On our last evening, we sat in front of Notre Dame eating Pierre Hermè macarons before we went in to hear the opening hymns of evening mass being sung to the stained-glass windows. </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">It was all beautiful, and it was all a little sad. It's impossible to deny the romance of Paris, but sometimes I wish I could. </span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01848855788000487449noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6129519728578565145.post-43443989774773511242013-05-30T16:09:00.000-07:002013-05-30T16:11:42.321-07:00Gent, Postage-Stamp Sized//Postcard Beautiful. <div>
Gent was the perfect town for a pause between the hustle&bustle of Amsterdam and Paris. It's a barely-there medieval village, strategically built so that its canals worked as moats for the castle.</div>
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There is a huge student population in Gent; and they have a fantastic modern art&design museum ('Fantastic' is totally word-of-mouth. I didn't hear about it until the day we were leaving and that's a definite bummer). Anyway because of all this young hipness, the buildings are old, but the residents have learned to make that a simple backdrop for the modern interior design they clearly appreciate.</div>
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We fit in perfectly as 20-somethings meandering around in the afternoon sunshine, soaking up what was apparently the only two days of Spring in months of almost-constant rain. In the evenings, twilight lasted until midnight, and so we joined the groups of people dangling their feet over the water and sipping wine out of plastic cups. </div>
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The only touristy thing we did (besides take 100000 photos of windows&doors) was to climb the old watchtower, running up 256 steps to test our Colorado lungs at sea level. We had the place mostly to ourselves, and we stood on the observation deck and commented how the red brick roofs reminded us both of Boulder. We noticed the stairs climbed higher, so we followed them up to a locked gate. Never much into 'rules,' we simply climbed over&through the gate. We made it to the top of the stairs and onto the roof, just in time to watch the 4 o'clock bells chiming in front of us--the only other audience member was a gold weathervane dragon. Definitely weren't supposed to be up there but, hey, no one was there to tell us no. :)</div>
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Our hotel was fabulous and adorable, run by the cutest girl ever in the world who asked me where she could buy my Vera Bradley duffle bag (so of course I loved her instantly). We wasted a lot of hours making conversation with strangers&eating&drinking too much at the Irish pub downstairs, where the entire staff was transplanted from the Emerald Isles. There were 40 types of Irish whiskeys on the menu, and we sampled <strike>more than</strike> a few on bartender recommendations.</div>
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I can't say we did too much more than that in Gent. But we were happy there. We walked circles around the city. We explored. We slept in. We went shopping. I ate chocolate (I'm getting visibly plumper every day!) I'd like to go back some day. Until then, here's some of those 100000 photos I mentioned.</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01848855788000487449noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6129519728578565145.post-27197220498512497412013-05-26T14:27:00.000-07:002013-05-26T14:28:14.701-07:00Amsterdam, Bits&Pieces. 3<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yCWSHP_sUDw/UaJzmYnZBEI/AAAAAAAACbs/pK-IsKrqi20/s1600/4809D1A1-6776-4E86-ABFA-1406844D0BBC.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yCWSHP_sUDw/UaJzmYnZBEI/AAAAAAAACbs/pK-IsKrqi20/s320/4809D1A1-6776-4E86-ABFA-1406844D0BBC.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Caaaaaaaaats! I'm officially an international cat lady! I get a badge and everything! </div>
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Plaster molds of real-life men of the Nias Islands in 1910. Only one man is vaguely smiling, and as an installation, they all seem to take on the anonymity of the Chinese terra-cotta army.</div>
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Baby-sized bikes!</div>
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Public playground. Yes, that is a giant rope climbing gym AND a metal trampoline built into the ground. Guess who thinks kids are only made better for getting hurt? Me AND the Dutch!</div>
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People more concerned with taking pictures of Rembrandt's "The Nightwatch," than actually looking at the thing. ;) </div>
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More house than houseboat.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01848855788000487449noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6129519728578565145.post-87475505237524847092013-05-26T14:13:00.000-07:002013-05-26T14:14:22.742-07:00Amsterdam, Bits&Pieces. 2<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Here's some typography porn for you all. Oh, just me? Well then I'll simply try not to drool on you while I practice changing my handwriting. :)</div>
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You're not imagining. That's a whole store for billiards. </div>
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Taking the anti-tourist photo in front of the most-photographed typography in Amsterdam. </div>
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We asked some locals. They don't even know what this sign means. </div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01848855788000487449noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6129519728578565145.post-12607035985332139192013-05-26T14:03:00.001-07:002013-05-26T14:13:48.084-07:00Amsterdam, Bits&Pieces. 1<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Here's me and the scooter I bought, parked in front of my new apartment! Just kidding, but don't I look like I fit in? Thanks, Mom&Dad for the Scandinavian heritage! Thanks, hipster style for totally translating to Europe!</div>
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Here's the house I would buy in Amsterdam, if I were into that sort of thing. :)</div>
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Here's a watercolor print by J<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">an Sluijters</span> I did buy, because I'm going to be a grown-up and start collecting art. It is half of my B.A. after all.</div>
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Wall of ties and killer polka-dot wall at suitsupply, a fabulous Dutch mensware shop that had Ian drooling. They're opening one in Denver! Score!</div>
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Speaking of Denver... Someone's hometown reppin'.</div>
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&Other weird stuff on walls<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01848855788000487449noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6129519728578565145.post-6769631383978168302013-05-26T13:15:00.001-07:002013-05-30T16:10:29.901-07:00Amsterdam, Full Stomachs, Empty Wallets.Alright, enough about Amsterdam architecture.You're tired of hearing me talk about it probably. So let's talk about those other things for which you come to Europe. Namely: food&shopping.<br />
Eating in Europe is an adventure, and <span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);">other than fries&pea soup, I haven't figured out what "Dutch" food is. We've ended up eating Mediterranean most days, which is just fine with us. </span><br />
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On the first night, jet-lagged and stumbling, we ate here. The man running the restaurant was wonderfully sweet with pale skin and ink-black hair, and he told us to come find him for the best parties when the restaurant closed at 1 am. We assured him we could barely stay awake as we let the leisurely pace of European dinners wash over us. We split Kalamata olives and tzatziki sauce for a starter, and Ian declared the pita bread the best he'd had. We worked our way through a few more courses and, near the end of the meal, the old couple who had been sitting next to us stood and helped to clear the tables in the restaurant. The waiter explained they were his neighbors and had been eating at his restaurant for 17 years. When Ian and I were finished eating, the waiter poured all five of us glasses of cold white wine. I closed my eyes to the greying dusk of the north and tasted ocean and fresh and springtime.<br />
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Fast food before the Rijksmuseum. Bet you can guess which is mine and which is Ian's! I'm trying to make up for all the chocolate I'm eating. And yeah, I'm saving the chocolate post for the end. :)</div>
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This was our lunch spot on the second day that we spent shopping (ahem, hence Empty Wallets). It was kosher Algerian and the curried chicken&roastedfennel&chickpeas&freshminttea warmed us up from the rain. It was only one girl taking orders and serving and cleaning up. She had dark curly hair, perfect linen capris, and more than a few languages had combined to give her a wonderful accent that made every word sound like a song. S<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);">he seemed happy and not concerned whether we paid before or after we ate.</span><span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);"> </span> Ian and I were happy to sit on that little blue bench and watch the characters who were floating by on the canal in front of us. Mostly it was groups of Brits who were cheering their national pride in the city-appropriate Queen lyrics, "I want to ride my bicycle bicycle bicycle."</div>
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I love Europe's food culture because the best restaurants are the ones tucked away into corners that could be doorways to private homes. Only the shelves of wine bottles seen through a window give away that more than one family dines there, and I always feel like I've had a secret whispered to me when I find them. And even without knowing the language, watching people interact over meals reminds me that, truthfully, we are all in this world for the same things: being happy and spending time with people we love, doing things we enjoy. </div>
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Ah, I know, how philosophical of me. I'll stop there. </div>
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But you know what I enjoy? Gelato... And I'm hoping you guys are beginning to pick up on the fact that "gelato" stands for an idea a lot bigger than just ice cream. :)</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01848855788000487449noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6129519728578565145.post-37136018182163588772013-05-25T00:11:00.001-07:002013-05-25T00:15:01.753-07:00Amsterdam, Canal Wanderin'First of all, let me apologize for the bizarre formatting issues I'm having with these posts. Things are hard to navigate on my iPhone from abroad. But, I promise when I return home to a real computer, I'll switch them all into wonderful uniformity.<br />
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Let's talk about uniformity for a minute, or rather design in general. Because my favorite thing about this canal city is the dedication to good design on all levels, from the architecture and layout down the the door handles and texts.<br />
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Amsterdam is built on canals, much like a famed Italian city. But whereas Venice is built into rambling canals that sink (literally, at an average rate of 1m/years) into a romantic devotion to the past, letting tourists outnumber locals 9-to-1, Amsterdam is a city that knows its history, but never lets the 17th century hold it back. Amsterdam's canals provide structure to the city; a logical suggestion of movement that wagon-wheels from the outer edges, where Ian and I have a hotel, to the inner circle with the train station at the center. Yes, you can take canal tours; yes, you can rent paddleboats, but mostly they're cold and slow. Amsterdam is a city that moves. Quickly.<br />
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Biking here is an extreme sport, and we've loved watching how people tailor their bikes to fit their needs.<br />
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Like this one, complete with a windshield to protect the baby-seat welded to the handlebars.<br />
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This is the bike parking at the train station near our hotel. People don't lock their bikes to anything, they simply lock the wheel to the frame, because anyone carrying a bike whose wheels are chained is a giveaway that it's been stolen.</div>
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Ian, sitting on a bike seat affixed to a pole. </div>
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Besides the bikes, I would chose to live in this city for the architecture. The buildings themselves are all the same: tall and skinny. But between the door-frames and trimming and window-shutters, they each take on a distinct personality. I'll leave you with these pictures, because I'm posting this from breakfast, and it's a new day for more exploring, (and I've got to go wake sleepyhead brother up).</div>
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01848855788000487449noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6129519728578565145.post-66212733438733979472013-05-23T08:01:00.001-07:002013-05-26T15:48:27.731-07:00Europe, In Fragments. 2<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I've just arrived in Amsterdam and I forgot how much I love this country for it's commitment to modern design. Sitting in the airport waiting for my brother's flight to get in, little memories are finding me here.</div>
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Amsterdam, 2.</div>
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I was here on a trip over Easter weekend with a few friends from my study abroad program in Italy.</div>
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We rented a paddle-boat and 'biked' down the canal. We wanted to rent real bikes, but opted not to in fear that we might be too stoned to ride them.</div>
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We ate about two pounds each of chocolate from Puccini Bomboni, and went through a 35-minute-long decision about what toppings we wanted on fries. (Again, stoned. Sorry, Mom!)</div>
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We went to as many museums on our museum pass that we could fit into a weekend, and I wished I went to more museums back at home.</div>
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We ate Chinese food the first night, and crêpes the second in the top floor of a restaurant/house with only four tables.</div>
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Paris, 2.</div>
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This trip was in May 2009 with my ex and my mother, who joined us at the end.</div>
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We stayed in the suburbs, and taking the commuter trains&buses made us feel like we were real locals.</div>
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We sat at a table at McDonalds, but ate Brie on pears and swore we'd never go back to hamburgers.</div>
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We ate crêpes here too, in a neighborhood that was too design-savvy for its own good, and we pretended that it was the neighborhood we lived in as [successful] writers and artists. (Being directionally challenged, I will never be able to find that neighborhood again).</div>
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We took a self-guided chocolate tour and learned a difference between the two of us: I ate my macaron the second we stepped out of the shop, and he wanted to wait and savor it somewhere special.</div>
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When my mom arrived, we had dinner at a restaurant with long tables with benches and bees on the menu.</div>
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We spent an entire day at Musée d'Orsay and she treated us to lunch at the restaurant with the most beautiful ceiling I've ever seen.</div>
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We stood at a church, somewhere, and were startled when a priest and two nuns crashed out the back door, habits flying behind them. We made up stories, wondered where they were going in such a hurry. Twenty minutes later, they came back holding pizza.</div>
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I'm so excited to be back here. I can't wait to share memories with you as I make them.</div>
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(And I hope there's some gelato, because I do love it.)</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01848855788000487449noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6129519728578565145.post-80963362560247504622013-05-22T11:14:00.001-07:002013-05-26T15:32:51.177-07:00Europe, In Fragments. 1<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I am an extremely fortunate, well-traveled girl. As I am approaching my fifth trip to Europe, it occurs to me, as it seems to often these days, that my memory is insubstantial at best.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I have a hard time remembering stories of places I've traveled, or best friends' favorite restaurants, or even arguments I've had with people. I worry that my brain is deteriorating at an abnormal rate, but I also worry that it could be because I'm not a very good listener.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br style="color: #222222;" />
<span style="color: #222222;">On this upcoming itinerary, I am traveling to Amsterdam, Paris, and Ghent in Belgium. For the former of those three cities, this will be my third trip each.</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br style="color: #222222;" />
<span style="color: #222222;">These are my memories of those places from before.</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br style="color: #222222;" />
<span style="color: #222222;">Amsterdam, 1:</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I was 12; it was December. I spent most of the afternoon sleeping, finally understanding the concept of jet lag.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">On our way from the hotel to the train station, a homeless man asked us for money. He proceeded to follow us several blocks, my theory is still that he did it because my father was so frustrated by him. I don't remember if my dad gave him money or not.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">We went to find somewhere to eat, and I was amazed that people we asked spoke English. We ate Chinese food for Christmas dinner.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The Van Gogh museum was huge, and in my mind it's is the same museum as the Design Hall of the Denver art museum. My mom was so excited to be there, and it's funny to me now that Impressionism and post-Impressionism are my favorite artistic periods, just like they are hers.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br style="color: #222222;" />
<span style="color: #222222;">Paris, 1: Still 12, still December. Our hotel was tall and skinny. We stayed in a different room from my parents. My brother and I giggled most of the night, and I still remember him saying boys could pee without turning on the lights because they peed in neon. I remember being happy that Ian was my best friend.</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">We went to the Eiffel Tower, looked up at it, but did not ride up. I thought I would be scared, like it was a roller coaster. We ate a Greek restaurant down the street, and I considered myself more worldly because of it.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The Louvre was gigantic, and we ate at the cafeteria. The Mona Lisa was small, but impeccable. And beautiful.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I couldn't eat enough croissants with jam (and I considered myself more worldly for that, too).</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="color: #222222;"><br /></span>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Gelato is worldly too. And I do love my gelato.</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01848855788000487449noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6129519728578565145.post-83160414274743880012013-05-12T19:42:00.004-07:002013-05-12T20:24:12.110-07:002. A Love Poem(You will soon see that I am an Incurable Romantic.)<br />
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<b><i>XLIV: You must know that I do not love </i>and <i>that I love you</i></b><br />
Pablo Neruda<br />
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You must know that I do not love <i>and</i> that I love you,<br />
because everything alive has its two sides;<br />
a word is one wing of the silence,<br />
fire has its cold half.<br />
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I love you in order to begin to love you,<br />
to start infinity again<br />
and never to stop loving you:<br />
that's why I do not love you yet.<br />
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I love you, and I do not love you, as if I held<br />
keys in my hand: to a future of joy--<br />
a wretched, muddled fate--<br />
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My love has two lives, in order to love you:<br />
that's why I love you when I do not love you<br />
and also why I love you when I do.<br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">This is me in my wedding dress that I didn't get a chance to wear (that story comes later).</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">And that is my love, The Little Bump Cat</span><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: xx-small;">.</span></div>
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"to start infinity again//and never to stop loving you://that's why I do not love you yet."</div>
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I used to think I have been in love, but I grow evermore uncertain as to what that means.</div>
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I'm unsatisfied with the way I've loved in the past.</div>
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And next time I say "I love you, I want it to be for infinity.</div>
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Until then, I am busy studying up on love poems to find out what love might mean.</div>
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Until then, I'm going to be satisfied with just loving me&the things that I love.</div>
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(And I do love my gelato).</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01848855788000487449noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6129519728578565145.post-64608329097756879092013-05-12T00:01:00.000-07:002013-05-12T19:44:45.566-07:001. Hello, you.<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">This blog is a project in a lot of things. I'd really would love to say that I have a theme, but I haven't.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I'd like to say I will focus only on beautiful clothing&interior design, but I won't.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I'd like to say I will collect only poems&photography here, but I won't.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I'd like to say I'll finally write all those stories I've been keeping in my head, but I probably won't do that either.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">This blog will be, I'm hoping, just the truth about me&all the parts of me that I contain.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">So, first, you should know that I'm a list person. They help me keep my headspace in order, and I really like to organize things into categories. As a person who has moved 17 times in the last five years--including one week in a hotel room, one year with my ex-fiancé, and five months in Europe--these lists have, I think, saved me from [entirely] falling apart.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">You should also know that I use a lot of parentheses, brackets, &ampersands. Plus a healthy dose of smiley faces. I like for you to know that I'm smiling, which is most of the time. :)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">My bachelor's degree is in [first] English [then Studio arts; then Italian], so I am prone to over-punctuation. Commas, colons, semi-colons, M- and N-dashes: I love them all.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I want you to know these things before you follow me any further. Because, if you'll allow me these little quirks of character, I'm hoping you'll allow me some much bigger liberties later on. Namely, my indulgent practice of blurring the line between <i>the </i>reality and <i>my</i> reality. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Because <i>the</i> truth is that I've always had a hard time with telling it.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">But I'll try my hardest here, because there is no gelato in the shade. That only comes with the sun, toobright though it may be.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">(And I do love my gelato.)</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01848855788000487449noreply@blogger.com0